


99 Bottles of Pain on the Wall

by ShadyQuinn



Series: Birthdays galore [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awkward Reunion Sex, Clint's family, Consensual fighting, Couch Cuddles, Crying, Dry Humping, Kitchenware destruction, M/M, Movie Night, Nipple Play, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Cryo, Reunion, angry!Steve, mentioned Brother Bear, post-orgasm confessions, steve's birthday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-12-30 10:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12106518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadyQuinn/pseuds/ShadyQuinn
Summary: Steve get's the best birthday present he could wish for.Everyone is really patient with Steve (also kinda worried)





	1. I don’t wanna miss you like this!

**Author's Note:**

> This one is not beta'd. Also kinda late, been working on it since a while before Steve's birthday but oh well better late than never.

Being basically stuck in Wakanda for the last year had been hard on Steve. He was a fugitive, wanted by half the authorities in the UN. Especially after the stunt he pulled freeing his crew from the Raft. He wasn’t Captain America anymore, not by a long shot. Tony had made that more than clear, when he basically forced him to choose between this mantle that had been forced on him in the war, and his best friend who had survived torture and terror just to end up back at his side. He didn’t know whether he felt lighter without the shield - or emptier.

He remembered Stark claiming he didn’t have a dark side - and more specifically how Steve had warned him, that he just hadn’t seen it. Yet. Back then Steve had hoped Tony wouldn’t have to see it. But he’d also hoped to have a calm and reasonable talk about how his parents had really died. Guess all of that had flown out of the window thanks to Zemo.

As much as the authorities wanted Steve prosecuted and then back as Captain America, they also wanted Bucky prosecuted - and let’s be real, most likely executed - for his “crimes” - completely ignoring the circumstances that made all of that possible.  
And Steve? He was having none of that.

Ever since Bucky’s birthday Steve had gotten worse - though he hoped to be hiding it quite well from the others. Watching Bucky put himself into that thing had been bad enough, it hadn’t been until later that day, that Steve had realised what that would actually entail and how long it might actually take them to do anything about the things Bucky wanted them to change. Altering his brain like that was no easy feat, and Steve had to admit that on more days than not he thought they wouldn’t be able to do anything for Bucky.

Even with the constant reminder of a painful sadness luring at the back of Steve’s mind and in the hall just down the medic floor, he had a facade to keep up, or at least he thought he did. It still hadn’t filtered through his prior experiences that the general public may have expectations, but the people living with him, his friends, they didn’t hold him to those standards. They were actually expecting him to break down any minute, to finally let go of all the emotions buried so deep down, very close to where he’d stowed the memories of before.

Telling himself it’s for the benefit of the people around him, Steve keeps going - trains, reads, mingles - but to be quite honest, there’s no heart in it. Steve knows that, what he doesn’t know, is that everyone else does too.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve didn’t know how he did it, but Clint didn’t seem all that fazed really that he was now living in a state in central Africa apparently, with his wife and kids left alone on that farm. Clint’s patience wasn’t endless though and during the fifth movie night they held (this time Disney), when Steve asked him between movies, whether this was okay and didn’t remind him too much of his kids, and whether he missed his wife - well Clint finally burst. Not really, he was still insanely calm as he turned to Steve with a very serious face.

“Steve, I think it’s time I tell you. Laura is not my wife. And those were not my kids.”

“But-”

“Nuh-uh. Listen. I thought you were a strategist Steve. Didn’t you even look around that house? There were no pictures of me, Laura, or even the kids. All there was, was plain decoration, and while they do in fact live there, they are only a cover. They are a safehouse, Steve. They are family, though. Laura is my brother’s widow. We took them in. And by “we” I mean Nick, Phil, Natasha and I. Which - until we brought you there - were the only people to know about that place. So please, for the love of everything holy, stop worrying about my family. The only part of my family I am worried about is Natasha, but she’s a big girl and I know she can take care of herself.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I know you’re worried about Barnes.” - behind Steve Sam made motions for Clint to abort, but he kept going - “But I also know you haven’t been down there to talk to the docs in a while. Don’t you think you should check in with them? See how they’re doing?”

“What Clint is trying to say is: We’re worried about you, but we’re gonna stay out of it. Right, Clint?”

“Ugh, sure.”

The two had an intense stare-off about what just happened when Steve turned back to the TV.

“I think I should head to bed.”

“Aww, Steve no. C’mon one more. This one is about bears. It’s really nice,” Clint sounded so sure and almost a little hurt, so Steve agreed to stay for one more.

“But only one more.”

Both Sam, Clint and Scott all gave a little “yay”. What a weird collection they were.

The main character had just been transformed into a bear when T’Challa walked in.

“You are still on the animated kids movies?”

Sam gave him a wide grin and reached for his hand.

“Only the uninitiated would call it ‘kids movies’. Come sit, watch this one with us.”

“For you,” T’Challa let himself be pulled on the couch, barely missing Sam’s lap, and gave him a soft smile.

Both Steve and T’Challa had to admit to themselves that this movie was quite something. The story was heart-wrenching, the music infectious, and the art breathtaking.  
Although Steve was overwhelmed with everything he’d been suppressing just by the mention of Bucky’s name.

While everyone laughed at the image of that freakishly large pinecone, Steve gave a small sob. He was torn. On the one hand he wanted to know how the story would go on, on the other he felt like he couldn’t take the company anymore. He forced himself to stay seated, and resigned himself to going to lie restlessly in his bed after the movie had finished. (He did totally not cry through the credits, shut up, Sam!)

He hadn’t slept properly since Bucky went into cryo. Those rare nights he did sleep he had nightmares, so he had accepted his fate to only nap occasionally. And tonight? Tonight was no exception. Why would it be.

Nearing dawn Steve actually managed to drop off for a little while, but was woken from his nightmare halfway through (he knew, it was a recurring one), by a hand on his shoulder.  
His eyes flew open and his hand reached up to the shoulder of whoever was touching him. Only when his hand had unseeingly clenched around a thick, muscled bicep did his ears pick up on the words that were spoken.

“...okay. Stevie, c’mon it’s me. You’re alright, just had a bad dream. Shhh Stevie, you can wake up now. C’mon doll, you’re saf-”, Buck was babbling at him.

Bucky.

Steve threw his other arm up and pulled Bucky down to him, who immediately buckled as he couldn’t stay balanced on one arm with Steve assaulting him like that. He let himself drop and lay spread over Steve, being held to never be released again.

Steve almost crushed Bucky’s rips but he had to know he was real so he kept pressing the two of them together.

“Stevie, doll, c’mon I’m here, not ‘bout to leave neither. You at least wanna let me breath?” Bucky’s voice came out as a breathless whisper.

Steve shook his head. He couldn’t let go yet. So Bucky tried to arrange himself a little bit between Steve’s arms and his chest. His right arm reaching up to stroke through Steve’s hair and down his face even though his face was squished against Steve’s collarbone.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun was bright in the sky before Steve found the strength to pull himself together enough to properly look at Bucky.

“Hi,“ Steve was shocked by the gravel roughness of his voice.

“Feelin’ better?“ The soothing sound of Bucky’s gentle voice laid itself over Steve like a cozy blanket. He pulled himself up some more, pressing his nose into the soft fabric of Bucky’s shirt, inhaling the scent that was so unmistakably Bucky. That’s when his brain finally caught up with everything.

“I.. what.. how are you even here?“ His voice was plain pleading now and it broke Bucky’s heart a little bit to see Steve like that and know he was the one to put him into this situation. (As necessary as it had been to him, it was still cruel to Steve).

“They’re done, doll. Nothing left up here that isn’t me, promise. I remember a lot more now too, you know.“ A wicked smile took hold of Bucky’s face and his right hand wound its way out of Steve’s hair, and between their bodies. His palm flat on Steve’s pec, his thumb started searching for Steve’s sensitive nipple. Just the smallest hint of a touch and Steve arched into him - he’d always been sensitive to soft touches and the serum had only enhanced that. Bucky had always adored Steve’s immediate reactions to small scale stimulation.

“Buck..“ Steve’s voice was already breathy and pleading.

He’d only intended to tease, to lead Steve’s mind in the direction of all the fantastic things he remembered and steer it away from worrying about the bad things that Bucky did definitely remember as well. But Steve’s reaction was so much stronger than any he could recall, even stronger than the first time they found out Steve’s nipples were rather sensitive, or the first time after the serum when Steve explained to Bucky how everything felt so much more intense now. This was different and Bucky had an idea as to why that was.

“Stevie, doll, you gonna tell me when the last time was for ya?“

The flush on Steve’s cheeks now spread over his entire face to the tips of his ears.

“That long, huh?” Bucky knew he was being mean - that didn't keep him from running his thumb over Steve’s nipple again and again, though. He wanted an answer and if it took teasing Steve all night - well he'd endure that too.

“C’mon Stevie, share with the class. Including you, who was the last one to get you off?” Bucky was barely breathing the words in Steve’s ear, while his hand kept stroking over Steve’s chest. Steve kept aborting little thrust movements, rubbing himself off against Bucky’s leg.  
Bucky pressed his leg down a bit on Steve's crotch, and out came a soft moan that sounded a lot like what Bucky would die to hear but he needed to be sure.

“Repeat that for me, doll?”

“You,” as breathy as Steve's voice had gotten, Bucky could hear this one clear as day. He rewarded Steve with a strong squeeze to his chest, and especially efficient bearing down, and himself with finally kissing those soft plush lips again. Bucky had barely touched his tongue to Steve's, when he felt the evidence of how long it's been for Steve spill against his thigh.

“God, doll, so good and responsive for me. How did I ever deserve you.”

Steve only responds - after his breathing pattern evens out - by pressing his lips to Bucky’s for a short moment again and nuzzling into his neck afterwards.

“‘S good to have you back,” Steve slurred out.

“It’s good to be back. I really missed you.”

“You were asleep, though, you can’t’ve missed me.”

“Before, dummy. When you were looking for me. I always knew where you were but I couldn’t let you find me. I wasn’t ready, yet. But God did I want to. I remembered enough to miss you like the piece of me that you are - have been for most of my life really.”

When Bucky looked up into Steve’s face, he saw tears brimming in his eyes. He gave a weary sigh.

“Shit, Stevie, please don’t. I didn’t mean to bring any of that up,” he splattered soft kisses all over Steve’s cheeks, nose, and forehead. “Let’s go have breakfast, okay?” He brushed his thumb under the other’s eyes to swipe away the tears that had already spilled.

Steve wore the stupidest sappy smile as he brushed his hand through Bucky’s long hair.

“I love you so much. You’re part of me just as much, you know that right?” Bucky swallowed and gave a small nod. Before Bucky could embarrass himself any further, Steve surged up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, not lingering there, though.

“Breakfast sounds great.”


	2. Come back, be near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where there is more talking and still a lot of pain...

Breakfast did, in fact, not sound great. Breakfast was a disaster. To say Steve was not happy with his friends was an understatement. Apparently they had all known about Bucky being out of cryo for FOUR days before he’d come to see Steve. And everyone had kept their mouths shut about it. Steve was sure that was the longest Scott had ever kept a secret. Which would’ve been great and commendable, if it wasn’t on this specific topic.

Since Steve’s outburst Bucky sat next to him with his head hanging low. When no one had even reacted to Bucky walking in, Steve got suspicious. And then Scott blurted out the truth. Let’s just say what happened next was not pretty and leave it at that. Scott had gone so far as to duck under the table to escape Hurricane Steve. The other three men let themselves be yelled at. Only after the first outburst, when Steve had gone completely silent and resolved to staring at everyone angrily, did they start moving and eating again - well T’Challa did, as he had been smart enough to take his bowl of Lucky Charms (Sam is a menace with awful habits and should never have introduced him to this pure sugar heaven) from the table, and was now the only one to still have something left.

Clint climbed from his chair to the counter as if they were playing ‘The Floor is Lava’ to avoid the destruction Steve had caused on his way to more coffee. Sam still held on to the handle of his cup, detachedly looking between Steve, T’Challa and the remains of his coffee and cup on the ground.

Bucky assumed the coast to be clearer once Steve hadn’t spoken for several minutes and lifted his head again. Even though he saw the expression on Steve’s face that spelled doom, he couldn’t hold his tongue.

“It was my idea not to tell you, you know. I wanted to make sure that I was really ready. I needed that time to prepare myself. And then everything went completely wrong anyways. Guess there’s no such thing as a great plan..”

When Steve turned to look at him, Bucky almost fell off his barstool. This was not the kind of look Steve usually sent at him, unless he had majorly fucked up. Bucky remembered those instances like the thorn in his side they’d been. And even now – well he knew what he’d done wrong and how Steve would be hurt by that but he also was still very much convinced that he had done the right thing. He hadn’t really felt like having Steve see him for the first time again with a messy beard to end all messy beards, untrimmed hair, and uncleaned scars all over.

Bucky let his head hang again and just mumbled a soft “Sorry..”

That softened Steve a bit, finally.

“No, I’m sorry. I overreacted,” he turned to Bucky. “I get it, I’m just… – I don’t know – probably still on edge,” he reached for his hand now. “Can’t quite believe you’re really here.”

Bucky shot a sideways glance at Sam, signaling that their plans would have to wait, got up and pulled Steve with him out of the kitchen.

“Let’s get you out of your head.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Why do you know where the gym is?”

“Steve, come on, I had PT. I can’t just unfreeze and run on. I need a day or two - not that HYDRA ever gave me that - but now that I can... It’s better than it used to be. I wanted to feel myself. And Steve, I do. I am myself. I am Bucky Barnes, but I’m also the Winter Soldier. It’s a part of me but all the parts have found their place now.”

During his monologue Bucky had pulled Steve towards the boxing ring in the centre of the room and taken off his shirt. After getting in himself he held his hand out to Steve, to help him over the barrier.

“Come on punk, show me how you really feel.”

Steve laughed as he too shucked his shirt.

“Don’t think we want or should do that down here, Buck.”

“You see, I think you’re massively underestimating my exhibitionist streak, Stevie,” with a wink he pulled Steve up into the ring. Steve rewarded him with his most convincing ‘Bitch, please’ expression.

“Alright, lustmonster, you know exactly what I’m talking about so get your head outta the gutter and hit me!”

“How’s that supposed to help Buck? I’m not even mad at you, at least i don’t think so..”

“Just hit me Steve. I promise you’ll feel better,” Bucky walked up to his front, stopping barely a foot from him, pressing his flesh forefinger into his chest.

“Bucky..”

“Do something,” he moved on to prodding Steve again and again, always finding precisely the same spot, not letting up in pressure or speed of his pokes. Taunting Steve into reacting.

He did, in a way, he grabbed Bucky’s hand in his and – while continuously staring into his eyes – took his still outstretched finger into his mouth, running his tongue along the joints.

Bucky tried hard not to react - at least not in the way Steve expected him to. He let his finger be sucked and gently nudged his middle finger against Steve’s lips to be taken in as well.

“So good for me, Stevie. Bet you wish that was my cock, don’tcha?” he waited for Steve to give a confirming moan and a small nod, before he pulled his hand away and closed it around Steve’s neck.

“Well, too bad, cause you ain’t getting that until you’ve gotten rid of your aggressions for the day by fucking fighting me!” Always conscious of Steve’s breathing he slowly lifted him a couple of inches off the ground, hissing “Do something!”

And Steve did. He gripped Bucky’s wrist with both hands, swung his right leg onto his shoulder, and dropped his weight to his left, landing them both on the mat on their sides. Bucky took his sweet time to regain his breath, which Steve used to get out of Bucky‘s grip and position himself above Bucky, placing his foot on his chest.

“Are we done now?”

“No,” Bucky gritted out while he pushed Steve’s foot off of himself and slowly got up “this is the one time you could actually beat me. As soon as I have a new arm we’ll be evenly matched again.”

“Please, Buck, I mean it I don’t wanna fight you. It’s my birthday after all. Can’t we just go to our room and cuddle?”

Bucky couldn’t cope with the puppy dog eyes Steve was throwing at him, but that wasn’t the only thing that struck him in that moment.

“ _Our_ room?”

“Of course ya mook d’ya really think I’d let ya live anywhere but with me?! I mean unless you don’t want to of course, which would be fine. No pressure.”

“Idiot,” Bucky whispered, pushing himself off the ground, walking up to Steve grabbing the back of his neck, touching their foreheads together, “as if I’d ever let you out of my sight. You’d probably jump out of a plane without a ‘chute again.”

“Not while you can see me at least,” Steve grinned “but sometimes it just can’t be helped. Ya know I have a job and responsibili–” Steve was stopped short by a set of teeth digging themselves into his bottom lip.

Bucky pulled back a bit staring at him, judging – hard.

“Don’t even dare finishing that. I don’t give a shit about your ‘job’ or ‘responsibilities’ not that you have any, last I heard the government and you broke up. You are important, ya know stuff like you staying alive. You have those 30 seconds it takes to at least grab a chute, if you have to put it on while falling fine but don’t forego it altogether. Please.”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best. Promise. Can we stop talking about all this heavy shit and go cuddle instead now?” Steve threw the most pitiful puppy dog eyes at Bucky, who – let’s be real here – just couldn’t resist anymore.

“Fine. Punk.” Steve pulled him in for a quick peck.

“Jerk,” grinning he turned around and pulled Bucky with him, back to their room.

 

* * *

 

 

Half an hour later finds them under a soft blanket on the gigantic couch holding on to each other as though they were lifelines. In the background – on an insanely low volume – a jazz station was lending the room an even softer atmosphere. Steve had pulled the floor length curtains to escape the midday summer heat and brightness.

Bucky’s head laying on his chest, Steve soothingly runs his fingers through the long strands. There’s a lull from the radio in between songs. That’s when Bucky speaks up for the first time since they left the gym.

“Anything important I missed other than you risking your life to free those clowns?”

“Aww come on Buck they’re not clowns..”

“Are too,” Bucky turned his head and placed his chin on Steve’s sternum.

“Anyhow, to be honest I mostly trained or was brought up to date on current culturally important things.”

“Is that fancy talk for watching a lot of movies and doing jack all? What about your job Steve, and all your responsibilities?”

“Har har Buck, shut up. It’s not like there’s a lot to do if you can barely leave the building, not even thinking of leaving the country.”

“But you did,” he pressed his chin in just a bit stronger, softly reprimanding Steve.

“And that was crazy, stupid, and dangerous-”

“Just like you”

“-and I’m not gonna repeat it.” Steve tried to look sternly down at Bucky but all that did was give him a soft double chin, which Bucky poked lightly.

“Oh fuck off, it’s just skin.”

“Yeah, yeah, old man. Keep talking. That’s what they all say.” Steve locked his grip in Bucky’s hair, giving it a light tug.

“Watch it. Who you calling old man, old man.”

“Let’s just be old men together,” Bucky offered and pulled himself up a bit to nibble on Steve’s lips.

“Buck we’re barely thirty, that doesn’t count as old.”

“Have lived through enough, though.”

“And what would we even do with our days, sit somewhere and yell at the troublesome youth?”

“Yeah!”

“Bucky we are the troublesome youth,” Steve barely managed through the shocks of laughter overtaking his body.

“You’re right, punk. Then let’s be young and troublesome together.”

“Anything with you Buck,” to shut him up from saying anything more, Steve pulled Bucky down by his neck and held him still, while he kissed him within an inch of his life. Bucky – of course – reciprocated, so they lay on the couch, making out just like the troublesome youths they were.

 

* * *

 

 

When Sam came knocking he was ignored at first, when he entered anyway, he was greeted by two 100 year old nonagerians, lying shirtless on the couch, who were somehow – even though half asleep – still kissing, barely any parts of them weren’t in contact. They acted like they didn’t even hear him enter, maybe they didn’t, but Sam doubted that, they were probably just hoping he would leave again, and soon.

Which he did. He decided Bucky would probably not be too mad, if they finished the party preparations without him and left the men to reunite some more in peace and quiet.


End file.
